


Forever and a Day

by jnic84



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Bucky Barnes Remembers, F/M, Protective Steve Rogers, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-07
Updated: 2016-05-19
Packaged: 2018-06-06 22:04:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6772027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jnic84/pseuds/jnic84
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You spent your youth as a friend to Steve and a lover to Bucky. But the three of you were not destined for normal lives and now the past has begun to catch up to you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Part 1:

 

****

1943

“You’re leaving in two days,” you blanched, feeling numb at Bucky’s admission. He hung his head regretfully.

“I’m sorry, doll,” he sighed. “You know I wish I didn’t have to go, to leave you and Steve…”

“But it’s your duty,” you finished for him, trying to hold in your tears. Your hands turned to fists, bunching the fabric of your dress beneath them. “Have you told him yet?”

“Yeah,” Bucky gave a weak smile. “I found him getting beat up behind the movie theater, he saw my uniform and that kind of gave it away.”

“How did he handle it?” you bit your lip, worried about your friend. Without Bucky around, it would be your responsibility to make sure Steve stayed out of trouble. You didn’t mind it, but you feared you wouldn’t be as good at it as Bucky. And if Steve got hurt on your watch, you’d never forgive yourself.

“He’s a tough kid,” Bucky grinned wistfully. “He’s going to be okay. And so are you.” You tried to return his smile, but your lips wobbled and your eyes couldn’t hold back your tears any longer. Bucky reached for you, whispering a gentle “Come here,” as he pulled you close. 

“You better come back, James Buchanan Barnes,” you demanded with mock authority. The use of his full name made him laugh. Bucky smiled widely, brushing a hand over your jaw and leaning in for a long, slow kiss.

“You won’t even have time to miss me,” he grinned with bravado. 

He left that week.

A month later found Steve leaving for the army. 

In a year, they were both dead. 

 

****

Present Day

You rarely watched the news these days. At your age, you felt like you had seen it all. Admittedly, the world got a little more interesting around the time that Tony Stark decided to become a superhero. It had been a long time since you had seen a man stand alone against evil, but Tony Stark was nothing like the true hero you remember. Captain America had stood for something. He was all that was right and good in the world.

Tony Stark was an egomaniac, too smart and too rich for his own good. He really was a chip off the old block. Howard would have been proud.

But if Howard had been alive to see Steve Rogers rescued from the ice, somehow still alive after all this time, he never would have forgiven himself. He had searched for months for any sign of Steve’s plane. That he failed to find him, that because of it Steve and Peggy never got their dance, this would have broken him.

In a way, you were relieved that Howard wasn’t alive to see Steve’s resurrection. You only wish you had been so lucky.

You remembered the day it happened. You strolled into your apartment, dropping your keys on the side table and flicking on the television for some background noise, when you heard the newscaster announce, “Captain America has been found alive!” 

Your heart had never beat so fast before. A part of you wanted to go to him. To be at his side as he undoubtedly struggled with the transition from the 1940s to present day. A familiar face would surely be a comfort. But your face would be too familiar, considering you hadn’t aged a day since 1946. And the exposure that would come with paying him a visit was not a risk you were willing to take. 

It had taken some time, but you had eventually learned that the public didn’t take kindly to most powered people. Even if the people grew to love you, trouble would always find you. And if you ran, there would always be someone chasing you. So you stopped running in the 70s. You built a life for yourself. It was a solitary one, but you had learned to cope with loneliness. 

Years passed and you remained in your self-imposed solitude. Loki came and went. Both SHIELD and HYDRA were dismantled. And through it all you watched impassively.

Until he reappeared, and your carefully crafted world fell apart.

 

“The helicarriers, once touted by SHIELD as step towards world peace, crashed into the river this afternoon, creating chaos and devastation,” the news anchor trumpeted. 

You were walking the streets of New York, when you took notice of large groups of people crowded around television screens in store windows, while simultaneously glued to their phones. The frantic feeling in the air let you know something was wrong. Weaving your way through the crowd, you finally got a good look at the news report that had everyone’s attention.

“Captain America has claimed responsibility for the damage, and reports are coming in now of leaked documents that reveal SHIELD’s ties to HYDRA, a former Nazi organization responsible for many terrorist acts. We have not been able to get a direct comment from Steve Rogers himself, as he was badly injured in the melee. He has been admitted into Washington General and is listed in critical, but stable, condition. His colleague, Agent Natasha Romanoff, will be issuing a statement shortly.”

You raised your brow in a measure of contained surprise. The fact that HYDRA was still alive and kicking was hardly a shock, but that they had managed to so thoroughly infiltrate SHIELD did take you aback. The SHIELD you knew, with Peggy Carter at the helm, would have never let that happen.

You didn’t know what made you change your mind. You had once swore to yourself that you would never allow yourself to see Steve, to be pulled into that life again. But the sight of such devastation, the knowledge that HYDRA, who had taken so much from him already, destroyed the new home Steve had found, left you feeling an aching sense of empathy. 

Taking the train from New York to D.C. allowed you to relax, to calm your racing mind. On a train, even one full of people, there was still a comforting sense of anonymity. 

A mere four hours later, thanks to minor delays, you arrived in Washington D.C. You knew you had found the right hospital by the swarm of reporters outside its doors. Slipping around the back, you worked your way from the twisting staff halls into the public area of the hospital. 

It was a simple matter of eavesdropping to find out what room Steve was in. The nurses and doctors alike were a bit star-struck by their patient. Years of perfecting the art of blending in allowed you to maneuver your way to his floor and past the nurse at the desk.

But you found yourself hesitating when you actually arrived at his door. 

There was a man, who you recognized from the news updates as Sam Wilson, sitting at Steve’s bedside. He was slouched down, reading a book while Steve rested. Taking a deep breath, you forced yourself to grab the doorknob, and after a silent pep talk, you twisted it and opened the door.

The sudden movement caught Sam’s eye and he looked up at you curiously. You were obviously not staff, judging by your casual attire, and he didn’t recognize you as a SHIELD agent. 

“If you’re looking for a quote for your paper, no comment,” he stated frankly, before turning his attention back to his book.

“I’m not a reporter,” you replied softly, glancing at Steve nervously, hoping you didn’t disturb him. “I’m a…friend?” You finished unconfidently. You hadn’t seen the man in over seventy years. He didn’t even know you were alive, and that had been entirely your doing. You didn’t really deserve to call him a friend anymore.

“You don’t sound so sure about that,” Sam said with a quirk of his lips. 

“I’m not,” you shrugged, “It’s been awhile.”

“How long is awhile?” he prodded, Cap had a lot of history to be sure, but he had only been thawed out now for a good five years now. And you definitely didn’t look old enough to be a pal from the war.

“We met in 1937, give or take a couple years,” Steve rasped, his eyes severely bruised but trained on you. He was shocked to see you, that much was obvious, but his wounds were distracting and he couldn’t quite manage to come across as stern as he would have liked.

“Hey, Stevie,” you smiled weakly. Sam looked to you, then Steve, then back at you.

“Your old friends just keep coming out of the woodwork,” he snorted, eyeing you suspiciously. 

“What?” you wondered in confusion, looking to Steve for answers, but he wasn’t feeling particularly giving.

Steve was staring at you like you were a mirage. Too often he had stumbled upon friends he thought long dead, and he didn’t know how to feel. There was relief, that he wasn’t alone in this world, that there was a piece of home no longer lost to him. But no one was the same person they had been in the 40s, him included. And considering you didn’t look like you had aged a day, he was leery to trust you.

“How are you alive?” he demanded, his expression weary and tired. You couldn’t blame him for asking. You had been a plain ole normal girl when you became friends. But that was before the war, and before Howard Stark, the man you both loved like your brother and cursed as your maker. 

“It’s a long story,” you sighed, gaze dropping shamefully. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” he reminded you with a gesture towards the hospital bed he was sprawled on. 

“You both left me, you promised you would be back,” you forced yourself to remember one of the worst moments of your life. Your tone remained impassive, but you struggled internally to stay composed. “Bucky was on the frontlines, he couldn’t write home, but you did. Every week. Then you weren’t Steve; you became Captain America. You left the country and the letters stopped. Until the chaplain came…he brought a letter. Bucky died and you were missing.”

Sam shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He felt like he was intruding. Steve swallowed the guilt he felt as best he could. 

“And then what?” he whispered.

“Then I met Howard Stark,” you revealed with a shrug. 

 

****

1945

The knock on your apartment door came as a surprise. No one had come by since the military chaplain. Not that they would, you didn’t really have much in the way of friends or family. Especially now that your boys were gone.

There had been a call from Peggy Carter, which was a little unexpected but welcome. Even if she hadn’t known Steve and Bucky nearly as long as you had, she had cared. She had loved Steve, actually. It brought you a some peace, knowing that Steve had found a little bit of happiness before the end. She gave you her condolences, you even spent a long time telling each other stories about the boys, and she promised to visit when she was back in New York.

But it wasn’t Peggy Carter at your door. 

The man was tall and lanky, with a dignified air that the British seem to innately possess. He announced himself as Edwin Jarvis, the butler for Mr. Howard Stark. You nearly shut the door on him at the sound of Howard’s name. He helped to change Steve. He was the reason Steve left for war. And now Steve was dead. 

Mr. Jarvis noticed your distress and rushed to calm you. Mr. Stark was terribly sorry, he had hoped you would deign to pay him a visit. He had something to discuss with you.

You hadn’t felt anything in the way of emotion for many weeks now. But a tinge of curiosity bloomed in you and you found yourself agreeing to meet with him. Jarvis escorted you to the car, and drove you to Mr. Stark’s private residence. He worked his considerable charm on you to keep you at ease.

It was a long held belief that if you ever met Howard Stark, you would slap him in the face. But when you finally saw the man in person, took note of the sadness in his eyes and the generous drink in his hand, you stayed your swing.

Project Rebirth had been his proudest achievement, he explained. Steve Rogers was a man he was overjoyed to have had a hand in molding. And his inability to find even a trace of Steve’s plane was his greatest sorrow. There was nothing he could do to bring Steve or Bucky back, but he still needed to help somehow.

Steve didn’t have anyone in the way of family since his ma had died. Bucky’s family, while not well off, were taking care of each other and grieving in their own way. But you…you were well and truly alone now.

You weren’t in the mood for handouts, and Howard seemed to know that. But he insisted he was in need of some trustworthy help at Stark Industries, and no one could come to him with a better recommendation than a friend of Steve Rogers.

You took the job, vague as it was, because you lacked anything else to do. You needed a change, a fresh start, and maybe Howard was it. 

It turned out Howard was working on a very special project; something he swore would be as successful and monumental as Project Rebirth. And months later, when his serum was thought to be finished, he needed a volunteer.

You had nothing to lose, and Howard knew that. The cynic in you hated him for playing you so obviously. But the lonely, lost woman you’d become wanted to jump at the chance of a new life and maybe even the chance to be a hero. Like Steve. Like Bucky. 

In the end, Howard’s formula didn’t make you a superhero. You didn’t gain strength or muscle. But you were not left unchanged. According to Howard, you now healed at a spectacular rate. He was hopeful he could use your blood to create a medicine capable of healing even the worst of wounds.

He never did quite manage it. And over the years while he grew older, you noticed that your features remained the same. 

 

****

Present Day

“Uh, not that I want to interrupt this awkward reunion,” Sam caught Steve’s attention, “but considering she’s apparently from the 1940s, you’ve held up nicely by the way,” he gave you half a smirk, “and that she’s probably working for him, shouldn’t I be handcuffing her?” 

“I’m not working for anyone,” you said with an annoyed curl of your lip. 

“So Cap’s two friends from freaking World War II both show up at the same time, and I’m supposed to believe it’s a coincidence? Sweetheart, I know I’m pretty but I am not dumb,” he smirked. 

“What is he even talking about?” you growled, turning back to Steve who was studying you.

“She doesn’t know,” Steve murmured, sharing a long look with Sam. You were never a good liar. You weren’t able to hide your emotions well. Your confusion was written all over your face. Even after all this time, he knew when you were being honest. Unsure, but not willing to question Steve, Sam sighed and leaned back in his chair. 

“Know about what?” you uttered in pure frustration. Maybe coming here had been a bad idea. Steve was standoffish, not that you totally blamed him, and Sam was starting to get on your nerves. Decades spent in your own company made dealing with other people difficult at the best of times.

“The Winter Soldier,” Steve explained after a long moment of silence. 

“He’s a myth,” you frowned, “a story HYDRA tells to scare all the good boys and girls into submission.” Both men looked surprised that you knew even that much, and you scoffed. “You were asleep for a long time, but I’ve been awake for nearly a century. I know things.”

“He’s real,” Sam looked at Steve, who was radiating sadness. “He did one hell of a number on Captain America, here. And Steve just let him.”

You were beyond confused. Steve was a fighter, always had been. There is no reason why he would just stand there and take a beating, unless he had really changed so much in the past few years. 

“It was Bucky,” Steve breathed, pain pouring from him. “He looked me in the eye and didn’t even recognize me, but it was him. I know it was.”

Your heart no longer raced; you felt as if it stopped beating entirely. Bucky Barnes was alive. And he was working for HYDRA. You felt sick.

You ran to the bathroom next to Steve’s bed and threw up, the shock too much for you. Sam glanced at Steve in concern, but he just shook his head. 

He knew you needed time to wrap your head around this. God knows he still did.


	2. Chapter 2

Part Two:

 

1941

“I don’t understand why you don’t just tell him already,” Steve sighed, picking at his food absentmindedly. You were both seated in a booth at the local diner, but neither of you were feeling too hungry. Steve had only recently gotten over the flu, and that did a real number on his frail body. And you were too distracted watching Bucky flirt with a couple of girls at the counter to pay any attention to your food. 

“Tell him what?” you mumbled, turning back to Steve even though your eyes still wandered back in Bucky’s direction.

“That you’re head over heels for him,” Steve said plainly, as your mouth hung open in shock. 

“I am not,” you declared, doing your best to pretend that your face wasn’t hot from embarrassment. “I’m just concerned, is all. Bucky’s so doll dizzy, it’s bound to get him in trouble.”

Steve smothered a small smile at your red face, but let it drop when your posture stiffened and your head fell. He glanced behind him, seeing Bucky leaning in close to a pretty redhead, his hand on her back. 

“He’ll come around one day,” he offered with a sympathetic grin, which you returned weakly. “He’d be crazy not to. You’re a real catch and he’d be lucky to have you.”

“Thanks, Stevie,” you sighed, taking his hand and giving it a grateful squeeze. “But some things aren’t meant to be, you know. I’m afraid you’re stuck with me for a little while longer,”

“Can’t say I’m upset about that,” he shrugged, ducking his head shyly. 

“I know most of your life it’s been you and Bucky, but maybe sometimes it can be you and me?” you wondered. “I’m not to shabby, as far as partners in crime go. When our boy is too busy dancing with every girl in Brooklyn, it’ll be you and me. Why should Bucky have all the fun?”

“That sounds nice,” he admitted. He could always depend on Bucky, when push came to shove, but it was nice to feel like he had another person in his corner. 

“What sounds nice?” Bucky interrupted, dropping down onto the spot beside you and throwing a casual arm around your shoulders.

“Steve and I were talking about going to the carnival in a couple weeks,” you replied smoothly, giving Steve a bright smile.

“That’ll be fun,” Bucky grinned, a mischievous gleam in his eye. “I wonder if I can get Stevie here to ride the Cyclone again.”

“Who said you were invited?” you smirked, and Bucky held his hand to his chest while giving a pained groan.

“Aw come on, doll, what am I? Chopped liver?” Steve rolled his eyes.

“Thought you might have something better to do,” you tried to sound casual but Steve knew there was a lot of honesty in that statement.

“No place I’d rather be than with my best pal and my best girl,” he smiled widely, and you found yourself letting go of all the jealousy and melancholy that had wormed their way into you. Bucky’s smile was everything.

“I guess you can tag along,” you gave in with a nonchalant wave of your hand. “But if you get distracted by some dame and run off, I’m not going to look for you.”

“I’ll be glued to your side, doll face. You can’t get rid of me that easy,” he assured you with a dopey grin. “Besides, you know you’d be in a tizzy if I turned up missing.”

 

Present Day

Knowing that Bucky was out there, confused and alone, was the most painful thing you had felt in years. For decades you had shut off all emotion, remained closed off, and now these feelings left you overwhelmed.

You had to act. That was the only certainty. Steve was in a similar frame of mind. 

Before you had left the hospital, he asked for your address and phone number. You could tell he feared that you would vanish, and though it was a tempting thought you knew you couldn’t do that to him. To have two old friends tantalizingly close and yet so far would only hurt Steve that much more.

Still, you hadn’t returned to the hospital. He was due to be discharged any day now, but you couldn’t wait for him to recover before commencing your search for Bucky. Admittedly your connections were no longer reliable. Most of them were likely dead or aged. But there was still one card to play.

You arrived at Stark Industries, staring up at the building in wonder. You remembered when Howard first brought you to his labs. This building literally towered over his initial efforts.

Tucking a photograph into your jeans pocket, you stepped inside and up to the harried receptionist who looked quite ready for her break. 

“I need to speak with Tony Stark,” you informed her politely. “I was a friend of his father.”

Her brow rose skeptically at that, but she picked up the phone, speaking softly on the line. “Someone will be with you shortly,” she drawled, keeping an eye on you as you took a step back and waited.

It didn’t take long for the elevator door to open, but Tony Stark didn’t step out. You were hardly surprised. Instead it was a lithe strawberry blond with a welcoming smile and curious gaze. Pepper Potts. 

You didn’t waste time with small talk. After a polite hello, you reached for the photo in your pocket, handing it carefully to Miss Potts.

She studied the black and white picture intently. Howard was there, in all his glory, beaming at the camera. Jarvis hovered in the background, forever at his beck and call. And to Howard’s right, smiling but aloof, was you. The photo was worn around the edges but still clear as day.

“I really am a friend of his father,” you said softly, and with a slow nod Pepper took a step back.

“Follow me,” she smiled tightly. Her concern for Tony was obvious and you could appreciate the close bond they shared. You couldn’t blame her for being protective. While there was no doubt Tony Stark was in need of protecting, it wasn’t from you.

A few minutes later found you standing alone outside a set of double doors. Pepper had gone inside to speak with the man himself, photo still clutched gently in her hand. You hadn’t expected Tony to fling open those doors himself, but apparently he was too intrigued to wait any longer.

“I’ve got to say, you haven’t aged a day,” he chuckled, and you allowed a small tilt of your lips in amusement. “Step inside my office, you and I have a lot to talk about.”

 

1946

“May I join you?” 

You glanced up from the morning paper to see Peggy Carter sweep into Howard Stark’s penthouse dining room and you smiled, waving a hand at the empty chair to your left.

“Of course,” Peggy grinned in relief and took a seat as you nibbled on a piece of toast. There had been a time when you would have jeered at the idea of taking anything Howard Stark offered you, but you had apparently grown weak-willed over the past two years. First it was a job, now he allowed you to occupy his currently empty penthouse. If you hadn’t been in such a tough position with your old place you would have never agreed to it. Money wasn’t the problem, not with a Stark signing your paychecks. But memories haunted you in that apartment, until you couldn’t stand them anymore.

“It’s a Saturday, Peg. Shouldn’t you be sleeping in? Enjoying a peaceful day off?” you wondered as you folded the paper.

“Nonsense,” she scoffed. “I find an early breakfast can be quite the thing, especially when enjoyed with good company.”

“You must want something, ‘cause you’re laying it on pretty thick,” you chuckled, leaning back leisurely in your chair. 

“Alas, you found me out,” she gave a small laugh and then sighed. “I wanted to talk to you. When I spoke to Howard last, he made mention of his newest endeavor.”

“Project Phoenix,” you exhaled. “Of course that’s why you’re here.”

“I’m concerned,” she clarified, taking your hand in her own. “If you agree to this, there is no telling what could become of you.”

“Howard is a brilliant man—” you argued.

“Yes, but he is still a man, capable of folly,” Peggy cut you off with an urgency in her voice. “Project Rebirth was a success, and there is no discounting Howard’s work in making that happen, but it was Dr. Erskine who perfected the serum. No one has been able to replicate it since, not even Howard. I know he is at a crossroads, that he feels like he failed us. But he has you gambling with your very life.”

“He isn’t forcing me to do this,” you said gently. “I know the risks. But I’m not like you, Peggy. You have the SSR and Daniel...you have a true life. I…don’t. I can’t go home because all that waits for me there is a pair of Steve’s shoes left by the couch, and Bucky’s clothes sitting in the closet. My job is mostly mindless busy work. I’ve tried making new friends, meeting people, but no one quite lives up to them.” Peggy nodded sadly.

“This is a chance to start over, to make something of myself,” you tried to explain. “I can’t replace Steve, or be what he was, but maybe I can be something special in my own right.”

“And if things go wrong?” she pressed.

“That’s my chance to take,” you frowned. “Nobody really left to miss me if I’m gone.”

“Now that’s untrue,” Peggy grimaced, gripping your hand tightly. “What about me? I’ve already lost one person I loved and cared for. Would you ask me to go through that again? Would you put Howard through such a loss? And I fear Jarvis would be positively devastated.” 

“Well, if Jarvis would be devastated…” you gave a shaky smile. “I need to do this, Peggy. I need to have at least tried. I’ve been coasting through life and it is miserable. Steve was willing to risk his life if it meant he could help other people. Maybe that’s what I need, the chance to help people? God knows, I am terrible at helping myself.”

Peggy stayed silent for a long moment, absorbing your words. She knew in her heart, at least at this very minute, there would be no changing your mind. She understood your desire to move past all the pain, but still questioned if this was really the way to go about it. After all, Project Rebirth had been a resounding success, and despite that it still ended with Steve dead.

Resigned to losing this particular fight, she stood from her seat and placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. “If you need to talk, you know how to find me,” she offered, and you smiled appreciatively.

“You’ll see, Peg,” you said with false bravado, “it’ll all work out in the end.”

Three weeks later, Howard Stark returned to New York from his filming in Los Angeles. A matter of days after that found you strapped to a table in Stark Labs. Peggy paid you a visit soon after it was over. 

Things hadn’t quite worked out as planned, and you still didn’t know whether to crow in success or admit that she was right. 

 

Present Day

“Dad didn’t like to talk about Project Phoenix,” Tony admitted, leaning back in his office chair and allowing it to creak precariously. “When I first found the files, I got one hell of a tongue lashing.”

“It was ultimately a failure,” you shrugged carelessly. “I’m sure he was not proud of it.”

“I’ve got to disagree there,” Tony argued. “Not about his pride, I’m sure that bruised his rather massive ego. But a failure? I don’t think so. Come on, you’re the indestructible girl. That’s pretty damn impressive. I’m tempted to recruit you.”

“I’m not in the hero business,” you said bluntly. “It didn’t end well the first time.”

“So I hear,” he conceded.

“There’s a file about that?” you found yourself asking curiously.

“Not one of dad’s,” he revealed, “but SHIELD, yeah. It’s there.” You frowned deeply. “But I’m guessing that’s not what brought you here today. So how can I be of service?”

“I have a friend,” you rolled your eyes when he looked at you in mock astonishment. “He’s missing. I could use your help finding him. You’ve got the best tech available.”

“Don’t tell me,” Tony groaned, “this has something to do with the friendly neighborhood assassin who Cap swears is his bestest pal. God save me from all these overdramatic senior citizens.”

“I’m the overdramatic one?” you smirked, and he snorted.

“You realize your amnesiac boyfriend is a wanted criminal?” he countered, “I could get into a lot of trouble by helping you.”

“Getting out of trouble is what you do best,” you retorted. “It’s something you and Howard have in common.” He bit his tongue at your backhanded compliment. 

“Look, I’m not looking for any hands on help,” you reasoned with him. “You track him, and I do the rest.”

“I’m going to need a little incentive,” Tony considered. “I’ll help you track Barnes, if you’ll let me draw some blood samples for analysis.”

“I won’t be a lab rat,” you growled defensively. “Not again.”

“You won’t be,” he hurried to reassure you. “No physical exams, just a couple of vials of blood and we can call it even.”

“You really think you can succeed where Howard failed?” you couldn’t resist the taunt.

“Baby, I’m twice as handsome and three times smarter,” he preened.

Given your limited options, you reluctantly considered his terms. You hadn’t lied when you mentioned how similar he and his father were. Whether or not Tony wanted to admit it, he was nearly a mirror image of Howard Stark. You had trusted Howard with your life once before. As much as you didn’t want to admit it, a part of you was willing to trust his son with your life as well.

“We have a deal,” you declared resolutely.

“Then follow me to my lab,” Tony jumped up eagerly from his chair. “I’ve got someone who’d love to meet you.”

 

By the time you trudged back into your apartment, you were feeling drained. You had been going through life on autopilot for so long now that actually being proactive once more was a strain.

You went to throw your keys on the side table as usual, but paused when you spotted someone sitting in your recliner.

“You were never much for breaking and entering when we were younger,” you mused, dropping your purse and heading a few feet away into the open kitchen and grabbing some water.

“I was worried that you left,” Steve admitted, moving slowly to stand, still favoring his torso. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” you said softly, looking him over mournfully. What had become of the three of you? “When did they let you out of the hospital?”

“Last night.” Steve moved to the other side of your kitchen counter, gently lowering himself onto a stool. “I came here a couple of hours ago but you were out. I thought I could wait, so we could—talk. About Bucky.”

“I was putting out some feelers,” you divulged. Steve frowned.

“You have to be careful who you ask for help,” he gripped the edge of your counter unconsciously and you were curious if there would be cracks on it when he let go.

“I know,” you said flatly. “Bucky’s in danger, from all manner of people. But I went to someone we can both trust.” You fished out the business card you had swiped from Tony from your pocket and tossed it onto the counter. 

“Tony,” he grunted. “He’s a good man, but he can’t appreciate the situation. He’ll put Bucky in more danger.”

“We made a deal,” you asserted. “He’ll be discrete. It’s in his best interest.”

You could tell Steve wanted to know what kind of deal the two of you had made, but the sharp look on your face kept him quiet. “I don’t like it,” he sighed.

“You don’t have to.” And there was nothing more to be said on the subject.

Taking a long, centering breath, you left the kitchen and flopped onto the couch. A second later you felt the cushions shift as Steve joined you. 

“When we find him,” Steve mumbled, glancing cautious at you, “and we will find him, it’s just you and me, right? No Tony. Not even Sam.”

“You and me,” you promised. It always had been the three of you against the world. It was comforting to know that some things didn’t change.

Feeling something akin to nostalgia, you offered him your hand. He smiled softly, taking your hand in his and leaving you feeling almost grounded for the first time in forever.


	3. Chapter 3

Part Three:

Waiting for word from Tony was almost physically painful for you. 

For a long time, life had become routine and mundane. You told yourself you liked it that way. In truth, you simply accepted it as your fate. But now life was anything but boring, and you found yourself both terrified and thrilled at the prospect of change.

Steve wasn’t waiting to hear back from Tony. He and Sam were already hard at work chasing any lead they could find. You felt guilty not doing the same, but you had no leads and no other connections. Tony’s facial recognition tracking program was your best bet. If none of Steve’s leads panned out, then at least you could hold out hope that Tony would come through for you.

No matter if his mission had gone poorly that day or not, Steve made an effort to check in every day. Things were still a bit stilted between the two of you. There were a lot of hurt feelings on his side, you knew, but now was not the time to hash things out. Bucky was of the utmost importance, he was all that mattered.

The beeping of your cell phone woke you at three in the morning. Knowing it had to be important, you pushed down a disgruntled groan and rolled over in bed. Reaching for the nightstand, you tapped on your phone’s screen to see a text from Tony and an attachment.

“This just popped up, take a look.”

You pushed the covers off and sat up, opening the attached photo. The photo was taken from a distance, from a city camera or something, and the face was a little blurred, but it was promising. There was at least a small chance it could be him. 

You double tapped on the picture, enlarging it slightly and taking a look at the visible street sign. Mermaid Avenue. Your heartbeat doubled. You always used take that street on the way to Coney Island. 

A tiny part of you felt like a heel, calling Steve in the middle of the night when he had only just finished a long day of fruitless searching, but you didn’t hesitate. He would truly never forgive if you waited until morning to tell him.

His phone rang four times before he picked up. His voice was groggy and serious. No one in his line of work ever got a good call in the middle of the night.

“Hello?” he muttered.

“I think he’s in Brooklyn,” you nearly whispered, and you knew that woke him up.

“I’ll be there in ten,” Steve said, all trace of tiredness gone, and he hung up the phone.

Steve kept true to his word. He was at your apartment in exactly nine minutes, which was most impressive considering it took you fifteen minutes to get to his place even in the best of traffic. 

You both agreed that scanning the area and potentially confronting Bucky in the middle of the night would be a bad idea all around. He was already on the defensive. Showing up in the dead of night would only frighten him.

Instead, you took to your computer. Steve had grown a little more comfortable using the Internet in recent years, but you had essentially grown with the technology. It was second nature to you. Taking the lead, you turned to Google Maps, surveying the area as best you could, trying to find any foreclosed or vacant properties he might be using for shelter. 

You put together a list of potential hideouts, as well as any spot that might hold some significance for Bucky. After all, he was trying to recover his memories. 

Seeing how tired you were, Steve suggested you take a short nap while he kept searching for places Bucky might be drawn to. Grateful for the respite, you curled up on the couch and slept for an hour.

When you woke, it was a little past dawn and Steve was more than ready to go. Unwilling to dampen his excitement, despite your growing nerves, you grabbed your bag, phone, and the list you compiled before heading out the door.

You never thought that in only five measly hours you’d be face to face with James Buchanan Barnes.

 

Bucky saw Steve first.

The two of you were at the sixth house on your list, looking through the disarray for any sign of him when Steve found the first clue. A simple notebook, unassuming, but filled with bits and pieces of Bucky’s memories.

Some were of HYDRA, and neither you nor Steve could bring yourself to do more than skim those. Others were from his childhood, about his sister, or the first time he met Steve. Bucky had even cut out a picture of Steve from the newspaper and kept it pressed safely in the pages.

You and Steve decided to split up, to see if there was more to find. You wandered into the back of the house and toward the kitchen. It was obvious that someone had been there very recently. There was a cup sitting out next to the sink, clean despite the mess in the rest of the house. There was no power to the house, so the refrigerator remained empty, but there were a few cans of food and some fruit lying around, still fresh.

Steve was in the living room. The windows throughout the house were boarded up, so only minimal light snuck through the cracks. There was a makeshift bed in the corner, mostly made up of a pillow, sleeping bag, and a few ratty blankets. It broke his heart to think of his best friend living in squalor.

Taking a step further into the room, Steve noticed a particularly dark spot in his peripheral vision. Cautiously he took a step forward, using the flashlight on his phone to see who or what it was.

Bucky’s eyes squinted at the brightness of the light, and Steve felt his arm drop, overwhelmed with relief but too nervous to take a step towards him.

“Hey, Buck,” he tentatively greeted the wary man, giving him a small smile. “Do you…know who I am?”

“You’re Steve,” Bucky rasped, watching every movement he made with eagle eyed precision. “I saw your picture in the museum.”

“That’s all you remember?” he frowned, disbelieving. 

“What are you doing here?” Bucky asked cautiously, ignoring his question to scan the area nervously, ready to run any minute.

“I just want to help you,” Steve assured him, taking a slow step forward. “You don’t have to keep running.”

“I’m not safe to be around,” Bucky muttered, hanging his head. “When…when we were kids, it was my job to keep you safe. I—I can’t do that anymore.”

“Maybe it’s my turn to keep you safe,” he smiled crookedly. Bucky lifted his head, a tiny smile on his face, and Steve began to feel a stirring of hope. But then his smile disappeared, and a hard, angry look appeared on Bucky’s face.

“Bucky?” Steve looked confused, so he followed his friend’s furious glare. 

You were standing behind Steve, drawn in from the kitchen by the sound of soft conversation. A hesitant smile crossed your face when you saw Bucky and Steve talking, despite the obvious tension. But your smile fell when Bucky took one look at you and scowled.

“You’re not real,” he growled, taking an infuriated step forward. Steve moved to block you from his sight, but Bucky merely tossed him aside.

“Bucky, please,” you murmured gently, hoping to calm him. “It’s me.”

“No,” he snarled, “she’s dead!” You glanced frantically at Steve, who was picking himself up off the ground. There was panic in his eyes. 

Bucky could believe that Steve was here, maybe even wanted to truly help him. But you? You hadn’t taken part in Project Rebirth, you weren’t a super soldier. You had never fought in the war. You were a normal girl. There was no way you could really be here. This had to be a trick by HYDRA. 

He rushed forward, slamming you into a wall and curling his flesh hand around your neck. Steve leapt at him, but Bucky landed a vicious punch to his face before hooking his metal hand on Steve’s shirt and throwing him across the room and into the crumbling brick fireplace.

You didn’t know why he wasn’t using his stronger, metal hand to crush the life out of you. Not that he needed to, he was strong enough without it. But it felt more personal, this attack. This wasn’t the Winter Soldier lashing out. This was all Bucky, and he was enraged.

You tried to form words, to explain, but you could only make incoherent sounds. Your right hand clutched at his, trying to pry it off your neck and failing miserably. With your left, you did the only thing you could think of, and began tugging frantically at the thin chain around your neck.

The necklace broke the same time your neck did. Bucky felt the snap and released his death grip, allowing your body to fall to the floor unceremoniously.

He heard a shift in the bricks behind him, and turned his head to see Steve climbing his way out of the pile, looking at your body with despair.

“What have you done?” he whispered, inconsolable. Bucky’s brow furrowed, feeling utterly bewildered as he turned to face you once more.

A tiny glint of metal caught his eye and he kneeled down to study the object clutched in your hand. It was a simple gold necklace, a tiny chain and a heart shaped pendant etched with filigree.

And he remembered.

 

1941

“Happy birthday, doll,” Bucky grinned, brushing a kiss across your cheek. You tried as you might to hide your blush, but if the amused look from Steve was any indication you were doing a horrible job of it. Thankfully the street was still a little busy, and there were too many distractions for Bucky to notice.

“Thanks, boys,” you grinned, pulling Steve into your side as you threw an arm around Bucky. “Group hug!” You ignored Steve’s bemused groan and Bucky’s laughter.

When you finally let them go, Bucky pulled a small box from out behind his back, waving it tauntingly at you. You rolled your eyes and made a playful grab for it, but he yanked it back just in time. After a couple more times of this, Steve got bored watching the two of you and nicked the box from Bucky’s hands, presenting it to you despite Bucky’s protestations.

Placing a hand on the small of your back, Bucky led you into a cozy restaurant and sitting you all at a table before looking to the present in your hand with a cocked brow.

“Well I guess you can open it now,” Bucky allowed with an exaggerated sigh. You muffled an amused snort.

“Such a gentleman,” you pretended to swoon. He smirked. You picked at the bit of wrapping paper covering it, doing your best not to tear it. Bucky always thought that was silly, presents were meant to be torn into. But Steve agreed with your method. Times were tight and even paper had its uses.

After folding the paper and placing it to the side, you removed the lid of the tiny box and felt your heart speed up. Inside laid a delicate locket, shaped like a heart, and you knew you couldn’t hide the flush of your face now.

“Boys, this is too much,” you murmured, looking at them with wide eyes. This had to cost a pretty penny, and lord knows your boys weren’t rolling in dough.

“Uh, actually that’s from him,” Steve admitted embarrassedly. “I just got you this,” he offered you a single but beautiful red rose. His head hung slightly, a bit ashamed he couldn’t do more for one of his best friends, but you leaned down to kiss his cheek.

“It’s lovely, Stevie,” you smiled brightly. “Thank you.” He nodded sweetly and, sharing a momentary look with Bucky, excused himself from the table to get a drink.

“Do I get a kiss too?” Bucky wondered with a teasing smirk.

“I should give you a smack,” you returned with a confounded grin. “You can’t afford this.”

“Seeing as I bought it, I guess I can,” he said firmly. “Now you’re not going to be ungrateful and refuse a gift, are you?” 

“This isn’t a gift you give a friend, Buck,” you sighed. You didn’t want to be rude, but it really was too much. His salary didn’t go a long way, and he was still helping out Steve and his family. “You’re supposed to give something like this to your girl. You should save it, maybe for Dot. You’ve been seeing her, right?”

“I didn’t get it for Dot,” he frowned, feeling kind of put out. “Besides, I ended things with her. She wasn’t the right girl.”

“Still,” you sighed, “you should save it then so you can give it to the right girl.”

“I am,” he declared, with a certainty that took you aback. He slid from his seat, moving to the one beside you, and carefully taking the necklace from your hands. Undoing the clasp, he motioned for you to move your hair, and he slipped it around your neck before securing the clasp and making sure the locket was lying right.

You turned to him, biting your lip nervously. He gave you a crooked grin and you felt butterflies as he slowly leaned toward you. His lips met yours, merely a brush at first, and he felt you smile.

“You’ve always been my best girl.”

 

Present Day

“No, no, no, no,” Bucky chanted a denial as he held your limp hand in his, head shaking. Steve made his way to his side, placing a hand on his shoulder. He was torn between comforting his friend and lashing out at him.

Steve’s eyes went to the circle of bruises around your neck, looking on curiously as they slowly began to fade.

Bucky jerked beneath Steve’s hand as he thought he felt your fingers twitch. Both their eyes went wide as your eyes shot open and you took a sharp, desperate breath.

Coughing, you reached up to massage your still tender neck, ignoring the shocked gaze of the men around you. 

“Ugh,” you groaned, muttering to yourself, “I hate dying.”


	4. Chapter 4

Part Four:

 

Bucky scrambled away from you, obviously terrified not only of what he had done, but your sudden return to the land of the living. Steve took his place at your side before you could blink; crouching down to help you sit up. 

“Are you okay?” the shock still evident in his voice. He had known that you healed at a tremendous rate, enough to keep you from aging for decades. But immortality? That was a new one.

“Yeah,” you grimaced, twisting the kinks out of your neck delicately. “This isn’t exactly the first time this has happened.”

“You’ve died…before?” Bucky wondered timidly. He remained at a distance, at war with himself. Part of him wanted to rush to you and hold you close. If Steve’s reaction was anything to go by, you were the very girl he had fallen head over heels for all those years ago, no doubt about it. Even now he knew Steve would never steer him wrong. 

But he couldn’t bring himself to move any closer to you. You had been lying there on the floor, neck broken and heart stopped, and he had done that to you. He had always promised he would never hurt you. He broke that promise rather spectacularly. 

“I’ve died more times than I’d like to admit,” you sighed, allowing Steve to help you stand up. “It’s never stuck.”

“How can you be so nonchalant about this?” Steve asked incredulously, Bucky darting a surprised look at him.

“You didn’t know?” he interrupted in disbelief, brow furrowed and face pensive.

“I knew that she could heal rapidly,” Steve explained, looking at you in consternation. “I didn’t know you were immortal.”

“Only technically,” you shrugged, attempting to keep the atmosphere in the broken down house light. “I think beheading might actually kill me. I’m pretty sure I can’t grow back a head. But I’ve never tried, so—”

By the grim expressions on the two men’s faces, you knew they had failed to see the humor in your musings.

You took a deep breath, looking from Bucky to Steve, and back. “It’s a long story…”

 

1953 

 

“Honest to god, Peg,” you ground out through clenched teeth, “this is the last time I let you talk me into one of your SHIELD messes. This was no simple snatch and grab.”

“What happened?” Peggy demanded to know, and you pressed the phone closer to your ear as you eyed your surroundings. It was dark by now, and women standing on the street by themselves tended to draw unwanted attention.

“The joint was packed,” you complained. “Getting in wasn’t a problem, but getting out was a doozy. Braun was more paranoid that you thought. There were some hired thugs guarding that book of his. I barely made it out.” You heard Peggy let out a troubled sigh. 

“But you lost them?” she clarified, the worry clear in her voice.

“Of course,” you smirked, feeling a little proud of yourself. “I’ve been a spy for an entire eight months now. It’s old hat.”

Peggy let out a tiny chuckle. “And you have the book?”

“In my hot, little hands,” you assured her, eyeing the small leather-bound notebook. In it contained the names of a number of HYDRA soldiers that had managed to escape after the end of the war and who were known to be working with a number of American criminal organizations. Mostly low-level guys, but each had the potential to lead the newly founded SHIELD to some really big fish.

“Meet me at the rendezvous in fifteen minutes,” she stated, relieved the mission could be considered a success.

“Yes, ma’am,” you returned smartly, hanging up the payphone and rubbing a hand across your tired eyes. 

You turned away from the phone booth and only had a chance to see the muzzle of the gun before there was a loud bang and everything went dark.

There wasn’t any pain. You supposed there was no time for it. After all, you barely knew what had happened. Waking up was jarring. One second there had been nothing but blackness, and then you were forced back into the world with all its noise and color.

You drew in a desperate and shaky breath, opening your eyes and realizing that you were now lying on the pavement. There was a sticky substance beneath your head and part of your brain acknowledged that it had to be your blood.

The sound of footsteps caught your attention and you turned your head to the side to see who was there. The faces of the three men from Braun’s vault greeted you and you felt sick.

You knew you had the power to heal yourself unlike any other, but in all the experiments Howard had tried on you, none of them truly had the potential for lethal consequences. Howard Stark would do almost anything in the name of science and innovation, but that was a line he wouldn’t cross. 

It was almost surreal to know that even a bullet to the head couldn’t put you down.

The feelings overwhelming you drowned out the astonished voices of your assailants, who were busy arguing over what to do now that the lady they shot was apparently some kind of freak, but one comment drew your attention.

“Just grab the broad and let’s go,” the leader grunted, signaling for the other two to take hold of you. This made you panic and your limbs finally returned to action, but you merely flailed rather uselessly. They were able to subdue you far too quickly for your liking and tossed you in the back of their car. 

Your mind was abuzz. While you were scared, especially considering you had never been shot and kidnapped before, there was a sense of arrogance that your couldn’t shake. They had tried to kill you, and you didn’t die. They could torture you all they wanted, and you would heal.

The engine started up and you were pressed uncomfortably into the seat of the car. A new sense of confidence filled you and you said nothing to your captors. They weren’t worth the words. You were beyond them. It would only be a matter of time before Peggy came to your rescue, no matter what Braun did to you.

“You’re headed the wrong way, Braun’s back the other way,” one of the henchmen piped up. The leader looked unfazed. 

“Forget him,” he said ominously. “Burn the damn book. He can’t be trusted with it anyway. But I think the good Doctor would love to take a look at our girl here,” he met your eyes in the rear view mirror and you paled when he smirked. “Hail HYDRA.”

“Hail HYDRA,” the others repeated automatically.

And for the first time in seven years, you felt true fear.

 

Present Day

“You were captured by HYDRA?” Bucky was somber, his jaw clenched in anger.

“Join the club, right?” you smiled weakly. 

Steve didn’t even know what to say anymore, but he remained in between you both. It was almost a protective gesture, but you weren’t sure exactly who he was trying to protect. Knowing Steve, the answer was both of you.

You knew Bucky and Steve wanted more answers but this wasn’t the time or place to have this discussion.

“I’ll be more than happy to explain in detail the absurdity of my life,” you offered, looking to Steve to back you up, “but not here. If we found you, it’s only a matter of time before someone else does too. We need to go some place safe.”

“We can’t go to the Avenger’s facility,” Steve conferred with you. “Technically he’s a wanted man.” Bucky shifted uneasily on his feet.

“What about Tony?” you considered, not exactly enthused at the idea of sending Bucky to Stark, but at least comfortable in the knowledge that he wouldn’t have him arrested on sight. 

“Maybe?” Steve frowned. “But I’d need to work it out with him first. We can’t go there now. And my apartment is out. SHIELD knows all about it. What about your place? It’s not on anyone’s radar.”

“Unless someone saw you last night,” you argued.

“We don’t have a lot of options,” he pressed, and you felt torn. Somehow, despite all odds, you had hoped to make it out of this situation with at least some of your privacy intact. You had guarded it so selfishly for going on thirty years now.

But if anyone was worth sacrificing it for, it was Bucky.

“You should go, call Sam and the both of you can start working on bringing Tony on board,” you decided, and Steve nodded in agreement. “I’ll take Bucky to my apartment. We’ll lay low until we hear from you.”

“Uh, don’t I get a say in this?” a bemused, overwhelmed Bucky interjected.

“Of course,” you stammered embarrassedly. You had been so wrapped up in finding and helping Bucky that you forgot to actually include him in your plans. Even Steve blushed a bit, ducking his head and chiming in with a, “Yeah, Buck.”

“What do you want to do, Bucky?” you asked gently. It had been so long since he was allowed to make any decisions for himself. You refused to be yet another person giving him orders. 

With both sets of eyes on him, Bucky squirmed uncomfortably. “Um…I’ll stay with you,” he mumbled, meeting your gaze and feeling reluctantly hopeful. You smiled reassuringly and Steve tried to smother a wide grin. There had been no doubt in his mind that Bucky would not allow himself to leave your side, but he still needed to make the choice on his own.

Steve moved to grab his shield, holding it steadily as he walked to Bucky and put a warm hand on his shoulder. He couldn’t contain his grin any longer, and Bucky returned it with a shy smile of his own. Unable to resist, Steve pulled his best friend into a hug, holding on to him for dear life. Bucky returned his embrace with equal ferocity.

“You’ll be safe, Buck. I promise you,” he swore, pulling back and giving him one last clap on the back. “You’ve got one heck of a bodyguard, after all.” He threw a small smile your way.

“I can definitely take a bullet for you,” you smirked, amused at the absurdity of it all. Bucky was not as impressed by your joke.

“We’ve got to talk about this sense of humor of yours,” he grumbled and you rolled your eyes. 

Steve saw you take a small step toward Bucky and he took that as his cue to leave, heading out to call Sam.

The second Steve left you could see the anxiety return to Bucky’s body. It hurt to know that your presence made him anxious or fearful, but you knew he was more afraid of himself than you.

You made your way to him and he watched you stiffly. Leaving a few feet between you, you extended your hand and silently hoped he would take it.

There was a moment of hesitation and you started to internally debate whether or not to consider it a failed gesture. But then he licked his lips nervously and you felt the warmth of his skin as his hand slipped into your own.

With a watery smile, you gripped his hand like a lifeline and he tightened his grip in turn. “Let’s go home.”

And for the first time in seventy years, Bucky realized he had a home to go to.


	5. Chapter 5

Part Five:

 

1969

“Thank you for meeting me,” Peggy gave you a brief smile. While she was genuinely happy to see you once more, you didn’t share the sentiment.

“Call it a moment of weakness,” you sighed, the two of you staring at each other awkwardly until you finally gave in and stepped aside, allowing her into your home. It wasn’t much, just a studio apartment outside DC, but it didn’t remind you of New York and therein lay its appeal. 

“I was hoping your anger towards me would have cooled,” she admitted, hands twisting her clutch anxiously.

“I’m not angry anymore, Peg,” you revealed, closing your front door and taking a seat at your tiny dining table. Peggy followed suit and sat opposite you.

“I assumed it was still the case,” she frowned slightly. “I haven’t heard from you in nearly five years.”

“I haven’t talked to any of the old gang in five years. Howard, Jarvis, Daniel, Jack, you name ‘em,” you shrugged casually. “I didn’t think there was anything left to talk about.”

“Of course there is,” Peggy cried out, allowing her emotion to get the better of her. “We were friends. We were close once, and then you disappeared.”

“We were friends once,” you conceded, playing with your fingers as you tried to steady your nerves. “But Howard? To him I was an experiment. A means to an end. Same for the rest of SHIELD.”

‘Howard can be shortsighted, I admit, but he does care about you,” she argued, but you were not swayed.

“Where was his caring when I was sitting in a HYDRA prison? Or when he pushed for SHIELD to order tests on me once I was finally rescued? Matter of fact, where was your caring when he got his way?” you replied scathingly.

“I fought him every step of the way,” Peggy confessed, “but I am not the only authority at SHIELD. He truly believed he was doing what was right, what was necessary.” There was a long, pregnant silence. “For what it’s worth, he has come to realize his error.”

“It’s not worth much,” you scoffed. “If you’re here to apologize for him, you can save your breath.”

“I’m not here on Howard’s behalf,” she slid a tentative hand across the table, eminently relieved when after a moment’s hesitation you took it. “I wanted to apologize for my role in this debacle. I never got a chance to before you left.”

You felt your throat constrict, and you nodded for her to continue.

“I’m sorry it took so long to find you,” Peggy murmured, and you clutched her hand like a lifeline. “I am sorry I allowed myself to be overruled upon your return. I am sorry I failed to get Howard to see reason. And I’m sorry we put you in a position where you felt running from us was the only solution. It should have never happened, and it will be my deepest regret in this life.”

You let a tear slip and wiped it away hurriedly with your free hand. Squeezing her hand tightly, you let out a long exhale. “I…you’re forgiven.” Your acceptance seemed to come faster than Peggy had expected, and she looked surprised but pleased.

“If there is anything you need,” she offered sincerely, “I will see that it is done. You have my word.”

“Honestly Peg,” you broke your shared gaze, staring off into the distance, “I just want to go home. I want to feel like me again. Not this—freak—that I’ve become.”

“You’re not a freak,” Peggy dismissed, her disgust with the term obvious. “Steve was different, like you. He was not a freak. Neither are you.”

“Steve got to make a difference in the world,” you reminded her sadly. “I’ve never quite managed anything like that.”

“There’s still time,” she said, a hint of amusement in her smile. Time was one thing you appeared to have an abundance of. “But if you truly wish to go home, to return to a normal life, I would be willing to help.”

“Really?” you were a bit taken aback.

“I owe you that much,” she added with a pained smile. “I can help you hide, find you a place to call home, give you the chance to start over. I’ll see that SHIELD will not be able to find a trace of you.”

“That sounds like it’ll cost a pretty penny,” you frowned, sitting back in your chair. “I doubt SHIELD would be willing to bankroll an inside job.”

“I have a…private benefactor…who would be willing to help.” You knew she meant Howard Stark. Between his guilt at his treatment of you and his loyalty to Peggy, you knew he was willing to help in the best way he knew how: money. The question was were you willing to accept his aid, even indirectly?

 

When it came down to it, your desire to start fresh trumped your grudge against Howard. You would accept his money; you knew that was likely the only apology he would give you.

“Okay,” you agreed, and Peggy let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding.

“I’ll get started right away,” she smiled, standing from the table and taking a couple steps toward the door. She paused, turning back to you, considering. “You know, Steve made a difference in the world because when he saw injustice he could not run from it. You could do that as well…become a hero. But you have to stop running first.”

You acknowledged her statement with the clench of your jaw and a nod of your head. 

Peggy left and six months later you were on your way back to New York. You never did stop running, and you were left with the lingering feeling that you had disappointed Peggy Carter.

 

Present Day

“How long were you held by HYDRA?” Bucky questioned, still a bit shy around you. His head hung low, but his eyes were glued on you. 

You shifted uncomfortably on the couch. You had made sure to give him his space, leaving room between the two of you. “About five months,” you divulged. “Drop of the bucket, really. SHIELD was still pretty new then, they weren’t so good with teamwork. HYDRA was a cakewalk in comparison to SHIELD though.”

“I don’t understand,” he admitted, confused. “Howard Stark was a good man. Why—why would he do that?” 

“Howard had a lot of demons,” you said softly. “His son Tony can attest to that. He was a brilliant man, but he could be obsessive. He didn’t always know where to draw the line.” You sat in silence for a moment, thinking back. “I don’t think it was personal. He considered me a scientific breakthrough, and any innovation needs to be researched.”

“That’s a terrible excuse,” he glowered. 

“That’s life,” you shrugged, flashing him a lopsided grin.

“You’ve been in hiding for decades,” he frowned, looking down at the floor sadly. “What made you change your mind?”

“At first it was Steve,” you considered. “He had made a new life here, new friends. I thought for a long time that he didn’t need me around. That I’d just make his life harder. And then SHIELD collapsed and his world fell apart. And I know what that’s like, to see the organization you once believed in turn on you. And I didn’t want him to go through that alone.”

“And then?” he pushed, leaning a little closer to you.

“And then he told me you were alive,” you smiled tensely. “After that, it was all about you.”

“You and Steve,” he shook his head with a sad smile. “You’re too loyal for your own good. I—I don’t deserve that kind of loyalty. Not anymore.”

“If anyone deserves a chance, it’s you, James Buchanan Barnes,” you declared resolutely. 

“I’ve done terrible things,” he muttered shamefully. “I hurt you.”

“I got better,” you said with a quirk of your brow, and he reluctantly smiled. “And you can’t blame yourself for what they made you do. I won’t allow it.”

“I may not have had a choice, but I still did it,” he breathed. 

“Then you have a choice now,” you asserted. “You can be like me, and keep running from your past. Or you can be like the Bucky I know, and fight. You can’t change the past, but you can make amends. And you can become a better person from it.”

Bucky shook his head in bemusement, amazed by your belief in him.

Your cell phone rang, startling the both of you. You chuckled in embarrassment at your reaction, grabbing your phone from the side table and biting your lip nervously when you saw it was Steve calling.

Standing, you accepted the call, feeling like your very lives hung in the balance. “Hey.”

“How’s he doing?” Steve asked, and you smiled at his concern. 

“Good,” you assured him. “Quiet, but good.”

You could hear his audible relief. “I talked with Tony. He’s agreed to let Bucky stay in the tower. His movements will be limited initially, for the safety of everyone else, but he’s not a prisoner.” You could tell Steve wasn’t thrilled with Tony’s proposal, but he knew he was unlikely to get a better offer. “Sam worked hard to convince him that Bucky isn’t a weapon, but a soldier suffering from the worst case of PTSD he could imagine. That seemed to make an impression on Stark.”

“What about any outstanding warrants?” you tried to keep your voice quiet, but you knew Bucky could hear you.

“Tony is going to get his lawyers on it,” Steve confided. “He says there’s nothing money can’t fix.” That disillusioned statement didn’t sit well with the Star Spangled Man.

“He’s definitely Howard’s son,” you smirked. 

“Should I come by and pick him up?” Steve wondered, eager to see Bucky again.

“Tomorrow,” Bucky mumbled, and you turned to him in askance. “I will go tomorrow. Can we just—I mean—can I stay here for tonight?”

“Do you mind, Steve?” you asked gently. You hated to disappoint your friend, but Bucky’s needs were your priority at the moment.

“No,” he said, “I can come by in the morning. But call me if you need anything.”

“Thanks, Stevie,” you murmured, before offering him a final goodbye and hanging up.

You returned to the couch, but didn’t leave that previous space between the two of you any longer. “Everything okay there?”

Bucky turned to face you, looking tired. “You said I had a choice, to run or fight,” he spoke. “I’m tired of running. And if Tony Stark is my best chance, then I guess I have to take it. But what about you?”

“What about me?” you asked in confusion.

“You promised me, when I left for the war, that you’d wait for me,” he remembered with a nostalgic glint in his eye. “You still willing to wait for me, doll?”

“Always,” you promised, running a hand through his long hair and giving him a sweet, if a little wobbly, grin. He returned your smile with a true one of his own.

“Then maybe it’s about time for you to stop running too,” he whispered, leaning his forehead against yours and just breathing you in. “Come with me.”

“Tony is doing this for you, Buck,” you argued gently. “I don’t feature. This about your recovery, what you need.”

“You’re just going to sit back and let a Stark tell you what you can and can’t do?” he teased lightly. “I need you. And you need to start living again.”

“You drive a hard bargain, Barnes,” you chuckled, pecking him on the cheek.

“So is that a yes?” he prodded, desperate to hear your answer.

“That’s a yes,” you breathed, staring up in adoration at his wide smile. “I think it’s time to stop running.”

You felt the warmth of his hand as it slipped through your hair to cup the back of your neck. Drawing you close, Bucky pressed a soft, timid kiss to your lips. Knowing he needed reassurance, you took control, pulling him close and deepening the kiss. The flick of his tongue against your lips made you smile and you welcomed him.

Maybe this was the beginning of something new, the chance to make a difference, for both you and Bucky. You finally found a reason to stop running; you just wished Peggy was here to see it. She would have been proud of you. 

But Bucky is here, and he’s looking at you like you hung the moon. This amazing man, who endured far too much in his lifetime, was holding you like he never wanted to let you go. You felt loved, and for the first time in decades the emotion didn’t scare you.

You weren’t sure you could be a hero like Steve, but maybe you could be Bucky’s hero. That would be good enough for you.


End file.
